


The Striptease

by pjstillnoon



Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: F/M, Porn, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-27
Updated: 2016-10-27
Packaged: 2018-08-27 06:46:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8391352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pjstillnoon/pseuds/pjstillnoon
Summary: Title is self explanatory.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kindboh and Everyone Else Who Requested It](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Kindboh+and+Everyone+Else+Who+Requested+It).



Mackenzie helps herself to beer from the fridge; one for her, one for him. She twists off the cap and hands a bottle over, her hip rocking gently to the beat of the music thumping from the neighbouring apartment. Will can’t make out the song at all, just the heavy bass line and thudding bass drum; the roll of a computer generated 808. She takes a mouthful of fermented hops, her dark eyes on him as he does the same, the cold liquid burning pleasantly at his throat on the way down. She sashays towards him. “So, shall we go next door?” She asks. Will stares at her for a moment, while he considers how much he’ll probably hate it, and whether he can suck it up for her or not, and she breaks into a light laugh. “I’ll take that as a ‘no’,” she answers playfully, taking another sip of her beer.

She takes him by the hand and starts moving out of the kitchen, swinging her hips from side to side in time to the beat, tugging Will along behind her. He’s a little mesmerised by her ass in that dress. He’s been a little mesmerised by her all night, to be fair. She’s beautiful, and she’s young, and she’s fun. Her long hair is out, hanging down her back, and into her face, not styled in the slightest, and her make-up simple. The dress she wears is black, cut plain, and form fitting, and the heels on her feet have a cute strap that goes around the ankle.

Mackenzie stops by the dining table, and raises his hand in the air so she can twirl under it, dipping her knees in time to the beat as she turns slowly. She lets his fingers go and moves her hands to frame his hips, attempting to move him with her. “Dance with me,” she requests. Will gives her a slightly unimpressed expression. “I’ve seen you dance before,” Mackenzie answers.

“Formal dancing,” Will counters.

“I’ve seen you shake your booty,” Mackenzie says with a teasing smile, continuing to sway her hips in front of him. Will takes a pull of his beer. He only went dancing because _she_ asked. And only because he liked her and didn’t know how to just come out with it and ask her out. “Come on,” Mackenzie tries to coax him again, her eyes dark in the light from the kitchen. “ _Get your ass off the wall with your two left feet_ ,” she sings, and Will figures it’s a fortuitous line in the song he doesn’t know. She dances up on him anyway, tossing her head to the side, making her hair fly, clearly not bothered at all if he’s just going to stand there. Will feels suddenly warm. Then she grinds _down_ his body and he feels uncomfortably hot.

“You know,” Mackenzie says, rising to her full height in heels again, still moving with the music. She sips her beer, keeps him waiting. Will realises he’s gripping his own beer bottle’s neck way too tightly, and he’s tempted to give in and dance with her, if only so he can have his hands on her, and feel her body, while she moves like that. “If only one person is dancing, it surmounts to a lap dance.”

“I’d have to be sitting for it to be a lap dance,” Will shoots back quickly. His mouth feels dry, but at least his brain is still working. So far. Mackenzie gives a ‘hm’ of a laugh, high pitched and amused. She takes him by the tie (yeah, he wore a tie to dinner, and yeah, she teased him about it), and moves him closer to the furniture, whipping back a chair from the head of the table so its several feet away, and pushes him to sit. “I wasn’t serious,” Will says, looking up at her, leaning down at him; the cleavage develops depths he’d happily lose himself in.  
“ _I_ was,” Mackenzie says matter-of-factly. With beer still in hand, she loosens his tie a little and tugs him closer to give him a hot kiss, a brief but delicious sweep of her tongue, while the song next door changes to something slightly slower, with far more of a rumbling 808. Something in Will’s apartment vibrates with it and he’d have half a mind to make the neighbours turn it down, but then Mackenzie says: “Oh, I kind of like this song.” She shoves him back against the chair and ruffles his hair. “That’s better,” she smiles at him, and goes back to dancing. In front of him. She swings her hips and dips her knees and swigs at her beer. Then she puts the beer on the table and reaches up behind her to find the zipper of her dress. She tugs it down and looks at him over her shoulder, sultry for a second, before smiling. Will just stares at her, not quite believing this is happening, and wondering how far she’s going to take it.

Mackenzie shimmies the dress down her body, still moving her hips to the beat. The fabric drops to the floor at her feet and she steps out of it, all to the rhythm of the 808. She dances in her underwear now, black lace, her breasts jiggling as she moves, and when she turns her back on him, Will can see she’s wearing a thong. She shakes her ass at him, and he shifts in the hard chair, his groin responding. She turns slowly around again, her arms up above her head, and he roves his eyes, without restraint, over her body; full breasts, flat stomach, flare of hip and flattering thighs. He loves the shape of her calves in the heels, the canyon of her cleavage in that bra. God she looks amazing.

She sashays her way closer to him and leans forward so her breasts are in his face and he can’t help but stare into their depths. “Too bad I don’t have more clothes to take off,” Mackenzie says, but he doesn’t really hear her. He reaches a hand to her thigh and she immediately slaps his hand away. He startles his eyes to hers. “There’s no touching in the strip club,” she says sternly. Will opens his mouth to protest, but she cuts him off. “Geeze. When was the last time you were in one? And don’t tell me you’ve never been. Even I’ve been.” She moves away again, jigging to the beat thundering through the apartment walls. “I wanted to see what the fuss was about,” she offers before he asks.

“How was it?” Will manages as she pivots around on the toe of her left foot, picking her hair up and letting it drop against her back again.

“Kind of seedy,” Mackenzie confesses, looking at him over her shoulder. She sticks her ass out and sways it side to side. “I mean, the girls were beautiful but it’s kind of creepy everyone else sitting in the dark. Probably touching themselves,” she drops her gaze pointedly to his groin. He doesn’t need to look to know he’s sizeably turned on; he can feel his erection straining against his trousers.

Mackenzie straightens up again and dances around, part club raging (that must be for her), part sexy moves (that must be for him); she looks like she’s having fun with it. She toys with the straps of her bra, taking each one down her arm before putting them back, and it’s almost comical, because she’s not exactly graceful, or practiced (though she does have a sense of rhythm), but it’s also entirely endearing. The song switches out to another one Will doesn’t recognise but the 808 continues to rumble through the wall and Mackenzie moves to match the beat. She sings a few lines, something about her humps or her lumps (which she extenuates by grabbing her own breasts, kicking up this dance a notch), and Will suddenly recognises this song. It’s an awful song, but tonight, he’s a fan.

Mackenzie slides her fingers into her bar and rubs her nipples while gyrating her hips and Will finds himself swallowing hard. Then she slides her hands down her body to her hips, drops to a squat and flashes her legs open briefly at him. Will thinks his mouth might be hanging open. Mackenzie stands again, twirling on her foot once more to turn her back on him, and leans forward, so he gets an eyeful of ass, which she shakes at him again, and then moves closer. Almost within touching range. But he’s not allowed to touch. And then he realises her hands are at her back, unclasping her bra, slightly obscured by her dark locks hanging in the way. She moves away a pace and turns, her hands moving to her breasts again, squishing them up together, her bra straps loose on her arms.

Will takes it back, she might be practiced at this. He moves his hands to his pants and Mackenzie shoots him a glare. “I said no touching!” She kicks at his shin.

“I’m running out of room in here,” Will complains, undoing his button and fly.

“Just the trousers then,” Mackenzie concedes. He complies (but gets in a sly rub when she’s not looking) and she goes back to dancing, playing with her breasts and the bra, sneaking it off her body under her arm, so her modesty (if she’s got any left at this point) is still intact. She twirls her bra around her head, looking triumphant, and then tosses it in his face. It slaps him across the cheek, then crashes over his shoulder to the floor, a whiff of her perfume going with it. Will shifts in his chair again, spreading his legs a little further in an attempt to give his growing erection more room; if he shifts his ass just so, the material of his boxers creates just enough friction to give him a little relief, and turn him on even further.

Mackenzie presses both hands to each breast again, leaning forward to take the weight of them in her palms. She shakes her ass at the table, making her breasts jiggle in her hands, her eyes on him. She pushes her breasts up to create a crevice again, then lets them go, raising her hands above her head while she bounces her knees to the beat of the song, making her breasts jiggle on her chest. She dances around freely a bit, her hair dusting her nipples, before she slides her hands from her breasts, over ribs, and into the curve of her waist. She keeps going, tucking fingers into the waistband of her underwear, toying with it like she did her bra straps, sliding each side down, one at a time, before returning it to place against her hip, so he gets just a hint of dark hair beneath. Then she slides the fingers of her right hand into the front of her underwear, slowly, while he stares on, completely, and utterly, enthralled. And turned on. His heart is pounding and he feels hot and he can feel his groin throbbing eagerly (and his mouth is most definitely hanging open).

He wants to fuck her.

Mackenzie obviously plays with herself, still dipping her knees and swaying her hips to the beat. Will just stares at her hand. She slides her it free again, gliding her fingers up to her navel, showing him she’s clearly turned on as well. Will thinks he’s holding his breath. He wants to get in there; he can’t stand it anymore. He feels himself start to rise from the chair but Mackenzie steps forward and shoves him back at the shoulder, before leaning down and sliding her hands from his knees, along the inseam of his thighs, and just when he thinks she’s going to take him in hand, she diverts to his hips; he hisses a curse. She steps over his lap, fisting her hand in his shirt for purchase. He’s forced to look up at her, and her face is serious, her eyes incredibly dark, her lips red and her cheeks dusted in pink. Her hair tickles at his jaw until she starts grinding on him, simulating riding him. He grabs two handfuls of her ass and pulls her tightly against him, relieving some of the growing tension in his groin, as she makes heavy contact with him. He gives a groan and hears Mackenzie’s breath pant in his ear.

“I said no touching,” she admonishes without the slightest hint of serious threat, her voice deliciously croaky and breathless. She doesn’t give up rubbing her crotch against his, shifting from up and down to side to side, still dancing, her breasts bouncing as her body bobs. Will drops his head to her breast, sucks hard at a nipple and her free hand comes to the back of his head, grabbing a fistful of his hair and yanking hard. “Christ!” She cries out and Will thinks exactly the same thing. He licks and sucks, and bites a little, until Mackenzie’s basically just writhing in his lap, unravelling, making noises over the thrumming roll of the 808 bass drum coming through the wall that has Will just about coming in his boxer shorts. If he could make his hands do anything other than desperately grab her ass, he’d force her back so he could kiss her. He’d whip her underwear aside right now so they could cut the fucking pretence and just do it already. He can’t even make his hands cooperate with his brain to get her hair out of his mouth. He goes to move to her other breast but finds her hand there instead, and watches a moment while she pinches her own nipple. She pushes his face out of the way, tipping his head back to kiss him hotly, desperately. Her tongue is almost lazy in its rush against his and they’re both gasping for too much air.

Mackenzie gives up the beat. She’s just thrusting against him in little spurts; his groin pounds almost uncomfortably. “Not here Will,” she says tightly against his mouth and he wonders what she’s talking about. “Not here!” She says more desperately, as he finds himself at her throat and works on kissing it, biting it, sucking it; licking at the light sheen of salty sweat. Her hand at his shoulder claws and she presses her torso against his shirt as she moves against him. “Will!” She thumps a hand at his shoulder and drops to his thighs. Her ceasing to move helps clear his head a little and he gathers himself enough to relinquish the death grip he has on her ass. He has enough wherewithal to move his fingers to her underwear, ducking in and sliding a digit against her. She’s hot and sticky and she gives a disgustingly arousing moan as he strokes her steadily, up and down and up and down and then pushes a finger in, curling it up. She squirms and groans and shudders and tries to ride his finger, but she’s kind of right, this doesn’t work. They need to do this ‘not here’.

Will withdraws his hand from Mackenzie’s underwear and she slumps against him. He secures his arms under her ass and thighs, shifts his weight forward on the hard dining chair and stands. Mackenzie is not heavy, but she’s still the weight of a fully grown adult, and he’s not exactly superman (though he bloody well feels like it right now). He staggers over to the table and bumps her into it. Her beer crashes to the floor and shatters and Mackenzie tells him ‘no’. The couch, is thankfully not far away, and he dumps her on it, her head snapping back on the seat cushion and her dark hair flying. He loves the way her tits jiggle. He leans down and yoinks her underwear off. And he means ‘yoinks’ – he grabs roughly, and tugs the material down over her thighs quickly, not bothering much about where item of clothing ends up (hooked around a heel), getting more excited to finally see his girlfriend completely naked (though it might have been fun had he left her strip tease the underwear off) and looking up at him from the cushion with a dirty expression; hungry. She shifts her legs open for him and he hurriedly pulls his boxers down just enough while he climbs over her. Her hands reach for him, tugging on his tie to bring him closer to kiss and he slides into her without preamble.

Mackenzie arches tightly off the couch and Will makes a noise she’s never heard him make before (or ever will again). He withdraws immediately, plunges into her again, and repeats. Mackenzie hugs his waist with her thighs, angling her hips further up to accommodate him, gripping his upper arms firmly as he fucks her. He pulls almost all the way out, then plunges in deeply again, sending sharp shivers of pleasure through her. She can feel climax building, but she’ll never get there like this alone, even with the way his pubic bone rubs against her.

“Will,” she tries, but he’s gone. His eyes are half-lidded and his breath is heavy as he pumps his hips, speeding up a little, before switching to shallow, desperate thrusts of his hips. The change in temp compounds the shocks of pleasure so they become more of a continuous wave, but still, it’s not going to be enough. Mackenzie shifts a hand between them herself, rubbing in time to his frantic thrusts. She gets more desperate with it, as she races to finish before him, and her pleasure builds. She’s at tipping point when he starts making feral noises in his throat and she knows he’s _so_ close. She hurries it up and the rapid pump of his hips helps. She throws both hands above her head and lets him ride her out, her climax washing over her in a happy wave. She feels Will orgasm a few seconds later, a series of cusses on his breath as he shudders and finally stops moving.

For a second, they’re completely still and the apartment is completely silent. Then Will moves to the side, stretching out her thigh in an uncomfortable way. She turns her hips with him and he slides out a little, but settles into the crook of the couch and they stay together, her leg trapped under his body, the other resting on top of his hip so that they can. His head settles on her shoulder but she makes him move so she can embrace him better, get her arm under his head to cushion it. His eyes are closed, and he’s red-faced and sweaty, his hair wild and his expression completely satiated while he catches his breath. It's kind of funny, how completely fucked he is, and she loves that she’s done that to him.

She. Did that. To him.

He’s usually so in control, Mr Smooth, with all the right moves, driving her out of her mind; a love-making kind of guy. So she’s mentally high-fiving herself that she got to drive him wild for once. She strokes her fingers through his hair and he gives a moan. She smiles to herself and crooks her neck to plant a kiss on his head, mashing her breast into his face a little as she does so. She starts to feel cool, and tugs his other arm (the one he’s not lying on) over her body as a make-shift blanket, realising he still has his shirt on. And the tie. When she looks down the length of the body, his trousers are at his knees, his boxer shorts half way down his thighs, and he still has shoes and socks on, his legs hanging over the arm of the couch. She gives a laugh. “Hm?” Will asks.

“What’s wrong with this picture?”

Will moves his head, blinks at her, looks at them, lying together on the couch, her naked thigh slung over his hip. “Nothing from where I’m sitting.”

“You’re still completely fully dressed, while I’m wearing nothing but heels,” Mackenzie points out in an amused tone.

“Hm,” Will gives a grunt and lowers his head again.

“The music’s stopped,” Mackenzie says. Will gives another grunt. “You ok?” He grunts once more. Mackenzie pets his hair. “That’s ok, if you need to take a minute.”

“Might need a few minutes,” Will mumbles. “Until I can feel my legs again.”

Mackenzie gives a short laugh. “Aren’t I usually saying that to you?”

Will huffs a breath, that dusts her bare clavicle and makes her shiver; she’s getting colder. He presses a kiss against her skin, a random spot on her shoulder that happens to be closest to his lips. “You’re amazing,” he murmurs.

“Thank you,” Mackenzie says softly.

“I love you,” Will adds.

Mackenzie grins smugly at his closed eyes. “I love you too.”


End file.
